


the liberation of pansy parkinson

by thunderylee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Gen, Minor Character Death, established pansy/draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-21
Updated: 2005-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Pansy doesn’t want to get married and become a mother; she wants a career and to be independent.





	the liberation of pansy parkinson

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for wizard_trauma 2005.

Shiny, sparkling, _huge_. Pansy watched thoughtfully as the four-carat diamond reflected the sunlight, flashing intricate patterns on the stone walls of Malfoy Manor. Smoothing her robes in the slight breeze, she nodded appreciatively as she accepted a flute of champagne from the house-elf and continued staring at her ring.

Her friends were _so_ jealous. If she could call them friends, that is. Girls she had gone to school with and girls whom she associated with at high-society gatherings were not friends, in Pansy’s opinion. As sad as it was to think about, she honestly didn’t have any real friends. However, they were still jealous nonetheless.

In less than a month, she was going to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy. It was only right, being as they’ve known each other for years and survived the war together. After the shambles that was their sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco had hidden out in her parents’ mansion until just last year when Voldemort had finally been defeated.

Pansy had taken care of him from day one, when he had showed up on her doorstep bruised, bloody, and bewildered, yelling something about how Snape had been killed and he was next. She had spent the summer nursing him back to health before returning to Hogwarts for her final year.

Obviously, Draco hadn’t gone with her. He had remained at the Parkinsons’, keeping himself busy by owling Pansy sometimes three to four times a day, discussing everything that was on his mind in an attempt to get it off his chest as well as to prevent boredom.

Pansy had always responded, every single time. With her N.E.W.T. studies and the impending war creating an atmosphere of anticipation and dread throughout Hogwarts, she found herself with a lot of spare time to dwell on her thoughts and dreams, expressing them in her correspondence with Draco.

At the time, everyone’s lives seemed to be set on fast-forward. Students were pairing off into couples and announcing engagements after only a few weeks, intending to have as many children as possible as soon as possible. One Hufflepuff girl had even gotten pregnant midway through the year, throwing a fit when Madam Pomfrey had suggested termination.

The only three students who were disinterested in this new trend were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Having been preoccupied with some activity that required them to disappear from school on sporadic occasions, getting married appeared to be the _last_ thing on their minds. The only reason Pansy remembered this was because there was talk of the three of them _together_ in a _ménage a tois_ of sorts.

This wasn’t true, of course, but it had made for a pretty juicy rumor. It had even given Draco a laugh, something which hadn’t happened very often since his escape. Hearing about unlikely couples like Goyle and Millicent and Crabbe and Daphne had just made Draco more morose about not being there to give them a hard time.

Somehow, though, they had made it through. Potter defeated the Dark Lord, Draco came out of hiding, and Pansy followed the trend and accepted Draco’s proposal. Now there was three weeks until the wedding, and Pansy was having second thoughts.

She glanced out over the vast space of property behind the Manor, land and trees as far as the eye could see. All of this would be hers. Both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been killed by each other in a nasty showdown at the Final Battle, so all of their assets had been handed down to their only son, Draco. By marrying Draco, Pansy was acquiring a lot more than a respected last name.

Did she really want it all, though? She had spent her entire life being handed whatever she wanted on a silver platter without any effort on her part. She had the nicest robes, the most expensive broom, and she was, after all, a Slytherin. That title in itself was worthy of the utmost reverence.

In short, she was bored. And she was only going to get more bored as time went on. A Malfoy wife wouldn’t have to work, of course. She wouldn’t even have to cook or clean; that’s what the many house-elves were for. What would she do all day? Her own mother spent time with her friends and went on wild shopping trips, but Pansy didn’t have any friends and she thought she’d tire rather quickly of shopping all the time.

That was a silly reason not to marry Draco, she kept telling herself. She loved him; she always had. The Malfoys and Parkinsons went back centuries, so Pansy and Draco had known each other since birth. They had grown up together, along with Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest. _The rest of the children of Death Eaters_ , she added bitterly.

Her parents hadn’t been directly involved with Voldemort’s attempted reign, but they may as well have been. The Parkinsons, along with the Malfoys and some other Pureblood families, provided large sums of money to several unnamed ‘charities’, but everybody knew that it was really for Death Eater use. Those hoods were expensive, Pansy supposed.

Following in her mother’s footsteps didn’t sound like a very good idea, given the history of what happens when one’s wife has an abundance of free time on her hands. Whether it be practicing Dark Magic or socializing a little too much, neither option was something Pansy wanted to do with her life.

Then there was the children issue. In that Draco wanted them. Obviously, since he was the last in his blood line and would need at least one male heir to carry on the Malfoy name in addition to all of the property and gold that would be passed on. Pansy had agreed at the time, having been so happy that Draco was finally ‘free’ and that they were actually going to get _married_ that she would have agreed to anything. Having children constituted as ‘anything’.

Pansy didn’t want kids, at least not right now. She was only nineteen. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her life, but staying at home raising children and being bored was definitely at the bottom of the list.

But she loved Draco, more than anything. He was good to her; he was _nothing_ like his father. Maybe he would understand the feelings she was experiencing?

“Draco?” she spoke up one morning after a particularly extravagant breakfast.

“Yes, my love?” Draco replied, looking at his fiancée tenderly over a crispy strip of bacon.

“How would you feel about my working?” Pansy asked carefully.

He cocked his head, furrowing his brow as though he were confused. “Working?”

“Yes. As in having a job.”

Draco chuckled. “What do you need a job for? Sweetie, the whole point of marrying me is so you’ll _never_ have to work. Amongst other perks, of course.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Pansy smirked. She certainly had no complaints in that particular department. Wait. She needed to focus here.

“But Draco, dear, I think I’ll be so bored sitting at home all of the time. You know I haven’t any friends, at least none whom I could tolerate for more than a couple of hours every month or so.”

Draco smiled politely, which was the cue that he was dismissing the conversation. Sure enough, the next words out of his mouth were, “Don’t worry about it, love. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of things to do. And don’t forget, I’ll be home whenever I’m not at the Ministry.”

Pansy simply nodded and allowed the matter to drop, not that saying anything else would have made a difference. As the son-of-a-Death-Eater-turned-good, Draco had been recruited by the Ministry of Magic to head up the newly created Dark Arts department, where he was responsible for training Ministry officials on how to recognize the nastiest of curses and remove them without harming themselves or others. Even though the Dark Lord was gone, there would always be others trying to follow in his wicked footsteps.

She was proud of her soon-to-be husband, really she was, but his work kept him at the office more often than not. He stayed late during the week and went in on the weekends, leaving Pansy to take care of all of the wedding preparations by herself. Her mother helped, obviously, but the final decisions had to be made by Pansy. The magical properties of the flowers, the exact shade of silver for the bridesmaids’ dresses, the binding charms on the rings – her mind had been swimming with several different things at once.

With three weeks left, though, everything was finally taken care of, and all that was left to do was wait for the big day. Hence why she was once again sitting on the back porch of Malfoy Manor, admiring the extravagant engagement ring that was both a blessing and a curse.

What would she do, she wondered, if Draco actually allowed her to work? Her education consisted only of Hogwarts and its related studies, and she did not fancy teaching obnoxious brats like she and Draco had been. She supposed she could do something for the Ministry – that’s where just about everyone else had ended up, of course – but what? She had no special powers and although she was quite fit, she didn’t have the strength required to capture Dark Wizards or even serve and protect.

The crisp spring air was ridden with guilt for even thinking about disobeying her fiancée, and Pansy frowned at the thought. It wasn’t as though she was contemplating _leaving_ him… or was she? He didn’t want her to work, she _wanted_ to work; he wanted kids, she didn’t.

If she _was_ to leave ( _hypothetically thinking_ , she added hastily as the wind roared disapprovingly), where would she go? What would she do? There was only so far one could get on magic alone; there were still bills to be paid, chores to do, responsibilities to take care of.

As hypothetical as the thought may have been, it still made its rounds to the surface of her mind during what little interactions with Draco she had over the next few days. She suddenly felt trapped; binded, as though Draco had put her on an invisible leash and forbidden her to do anything for herself.

This wasn’t true, of course, since Draco was just as loving and attentive as he had been since the beginning. However, every hug now felt like a _pull_ , every kiss a brand. She loved him, really she did, and she knew in her heart that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But intentions be damned, she refused to become another asset of Malfoy property.

It was less than twenty-four hours before the wedding the night that she left. She had been sitting in her dressing room, gazing longingly at the beautiful silver-and-green dress robes she would have been wearing, eyeing in particular the Malfoy crest embroidered on the front. The next thing she knew, she had packed a bag and Disapparated.

She appeared in an unfamiliar back alley of Muggle London, but somehow her feet knew where they were going. It was raining, of course, and she was soaked by the time she arrived at the doorstep of her fate. Shakily, not knowing what or who to expect, she rang the bell.

A face peered through the stained glass window and, frowning slightly, cracked open the door. Pansy was just as surprised to see her as the other way around, and despite their differences, despite their history, the other woman quickly ushered Pansy inside her home and rushed to fetch a towel to cover Pansy’s wet and shivering body.

Taking a proffered seat on the coach, Pansy looked around nervously as her savior wordlessly disappeared into the other room to make tea. The flat was small yet homely, full of the owner’s personality with a splash of femininity. Pansy had never been here before, but she immediately felt safe.

Hermione Granger emerged from the tiny kitchen, in her dressing gown and fuzzy slippers, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Pansy accepted a cup and sipped thoughtfully as Hermione attempted to smooth down her bushy hair.

“You have a lovely place,” said Pansy politely, pulling the rather large fluffy towel tighter around herself.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.”

Hermione smiled warmly, her brown eyes filled with sympathy, as though she knew exactly why Pansy was here and what she wanted from her.

Pansy took a deep breath. “I don’t want to get married.”

“Me neither,” agreed Hermione.

Raising her eyes to meet Hermione’s, Pansy chuckled softly and offered a half-smile.

“Everybody thought you would marry Weasley.” She was careful not to say ‘Weasel’, as those days of ignorance had long since passed.

“Including me.” Hermione quickly drained her cup and poured another. “We actually dated awhile after the war, but it didn’t work out. Obviously.”

Pansy nodded. “What’s he doing now?”

Hermione smiled brightly, as though discussing her ex-boyfriend’s life was her favorite topic. “Playing for the Cannons. He dates a lot, too. I suppose he didn’t want to get married, either.”

“And Potter?”

“Harry married Ginny, and they just had a baby. Harry’s an Auror, and Ginny stays at home.”

“Does she like it?”

Hermione seemed a bit taken aback by the question, but answered it nonetheless.

“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “She’s miserable, but she loves Harry and she loves their daughter. She hopes that she’ll be able to have a life of her own when Imogen goes off to Hogwarts.”

“How sad.”

“Yes.” Hermione sighed. “Yes, it is.”

“What about you?” Pansy asked. “What are you doing now?”

“I work for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, but I also do side work for the creatures in general. My goal is for them to have equal rights as well as freedom – House Elves, for instance – so they can abide the same way as any witch or wizard.”

Nodding again, Pansy didn’t bother trying to hide her awe at Hermione’s choices. “That’s what you’ve always wanted to do, right?”

“Yes,” said Hermione firmly. “Harry and Ron gave me a tough time about it in school, but I didn’t stop. That’s actually one of the main reasons I couldn’t marry Ron; I couldn’t have a husband who didn’t support what I did for a living.”

“I know what you mean,” said Pansy somberly. “Draco won’t even let me work.”

“You know, it’s ironic that you came here tonight,” began Hermione, “because I just saw your wedding announcement in _The Prophet_ this morning. And I thought to myself, ‘Poor Pansy.'” Seeing Pansy’s frown, she quickly went on. “Yes, I pitied you, not because I despise you, because really, I don’t. I felt sorry for you because I knew you were going to end up like Ginny, not working and raising kids.”

“I don’t despise you either, you know,” said Pansy. “I chalk it up to childish ignorance, and I think we’ve both come a long way since then.”

“I agree.”

The two women sat in silence, drinking their tea. After setting her empty cup on the tray, Pansy turned to look at Hermione expectantly.

“So what do I do now?” she asked, shaking slightly. “I’m supposed to be getting married tomorrow.”

“Well, I’d ask if you really wanted to get married, but that answer is obvious since you’re _here_ and not there.” Hermione smiled. “So for now, we go to sleep. The spare bedroom is down the hall and to the left. Please make yourself at home. We can figure out everything in the morning.”

“Thank you, Grang – Hermione,” Pansy said in a small voice.

Hermione smiled again and gave Pansy a comforting pat on the shoulder as she wordlessly made her way out of the room.

Pansy didn’t know what the next day would bring, but she slept contently knowing that Hermione was going to help her make her own life for herself. The thought was both scary and exciting, and Pansy found herself looking forward to her future.

Alone.


End file.
